Child, what is your name? 

Although it's been almost two years, every time I recall this, it still brings a smile to my face. 

I was volunteering at Fo Guang Shan Hsi Lai Temple. One day during lunch, Volunteer A mentioned how her 11-year-old son forgot to sign his name at the end of an email he wrote to his teacher. So she said to him, "Don't you need to sign your name to let them know who you are?" 

The adorable son promptly sent another email: 

"Hello, Teacher! It's me, the one who just sent you the email. I forgot to sign my name!" 

After Volunteer A shared this, myself, Volunteer B, and Volunteer C, all laughed uncontrollably. That boy was just too cute! 

Similarly, Volunteer D recently shared a story about her daughter with me, and I couldn't stop laughing. 

Her daughter participated in a three-day winter retreat organized by Hsi Lai Temple. She brought a ball to play with and, on the first night, while playing with her roommate in the dorm, her roommate accidentally broke the table lamp. Since her daughter owned the ball, she was responsible as well. Volunteer D only found out about this incident on the retreat's closing day. 

Volunteer D made her daughter pay for the lamp, but the guiding venerable refused to accept it. Instead, the guiding venerable only required her to complete 10 volunteer shifts in the Monastery Kitchen, teaching her to take responsibility for her actions.

So, every Sunday morning at 9:00 a.m., the daughter goes to the Monastery Kitchen and leaves at 12:30 p.m. 

As a mother, Volunteer D couldn't help but scold her daughter (maybe more than once? Ha-ha!). Her daughter's response was quite Zen-like: "Mom! Didn't Buddha say to let go? I've been repenting for two days already. I've let go. Why can't you?" 

When Volunteer D told me this, I couldn't help but feel both amused and amazed. I said, "Your daughter is quite something! She's learned the essence of 'letting go' in the following story. Ha-ha!” 

There's a story about a monk and a novice crossing a river. They saw a young, beautifully dressed woman at the riverside, seemingly eager to cross but hesitating. The monk approached her and said, "Miss, let me carry you across." 

The novice, though, felt uncomfortable. After holding it in for a few days, he couldn't resist anymore and said, "Master, didn't you always tell us monks not to get close to women? But the other day, you carried a young woman across the river. Isn't that contradicting yourself?" 

The monk calmly replied, "I let go of that woman long ago. Why are you still carrying her?" 

These amusing anecdotes from Volunteer A and Volunteer D got me thinking: What role do children play in the lives of their parents? 

I've noticed that relationships, whether parent-child or other, often fall short of expectations. Perhaps it's normal? No wonder there's a saying in traditional Chinese culture that " Spouses are like foes, and children are like creditors." 

According to Buddhist family values, Venerable Master Hsing Yun, the founder of Fo Guang Shan, said that families have the function of passing on the light, not only continuing life but also spreading culture, compassion, morality, and faith. A Buddhist family is built on the spirit of bodhisattva, where spouses are no longer adversaries, and children are not debtors. With correct understanding and insight, they achieve enlightenment together, establishing a happy and fulfilling family. 

Because of the emphasis on family education, Hsi Lai Temple TAG School added a parent class in 2022, allowing parents and children to learn together, hoping that each family member can live a bright life full of good deeds and virtues. 

Alas! Ideals are lofty, but reality is often stark. We frequently hear horrifying news about strained parent-child relationships. 

From a parent's perspective, there's a saying, "I learned to be a parent after becoming one." This might lead to more understanding for parents, but when I see news about child abuse, I can't help but feel horrified again. Japanese writer Kōtarō Isaka wrote in his work "A Serenade": "The thought that people can become parents without having to pass an exam is truly frightening." 

One of my favorite passages from Taiwanese writer Long Ying Tai's book "Watching" goes like this: 

"I gradually understood that the so-called parent-child relationship means that you and he constantly watch each other's backs as he walks farther and farther away in this life. You stand at one end of the path, watching him gradually disappear around the bend, and he silently tells you with his back: Don't follow." 

This passage brings tears to my eyes, especially after losing my father. 

Child, what's your name? What role do children play in the lives of their parents? 

I hope all children are named "Dharma Friends" (善知識, shàn zhī shì). Venerable Master Hsing Yun said that a "Dharma Friend" is someone who is upright and virtuous, capable of teaching the right path. They can enlighten others, guide others, and inspire others to achieve greatness. 

I think Volunteer A's son is a “Dharma Friend”. His simple and sincere actions bring joy to others. Volunteer D's daughter is also a “Dharma Friend”. Not only did she give a Zen-like response, but more importantly, she was willing to take responsibility for her actions.